Fun and Games
by Raztomara
Summary: What would the movie be like if a girl named Amocin was one of the Gladiators? Oh, in no way does this keep Maximus from his mission, its just the 'what if' factor, like would he have died or something?
1. The Slave

FUN AND GAMES  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody in here but Amocin. In fact I'm not even sure I spelled everybody's name correctly. I'm keeping this short since I know some people don't like to read overly written stories. Not to mention the whole movie was 2 and ½ hours long. There's no way in hell I'm going to do that. Wright what you already have seen while putting a few things of my own in there. So this is the story. Everything stays basically the same with some minor adjustments. Please R/R.  
  
What it's about: What would the movie be like if a girl named Amocin had been in it?  
  
  
  
The next gladiators had been paid for and now Proximo was on his way back to his home. He was half way out of the market when he saw a vendor selling a very disobedient slave girl. Unlike the other slaves she wasn't dressed in rags. This beautiful young girl wore leather armor, torn up leather armor, but armor nonetheless. She had long black hair and deep brown eyes. Strong for a girl too. The way she shoved the buyer away from her when he looked at her the way she found most unpleasant. She was being sold as a sex slave, and to be honest that was the worst kind of slave to be. Proximo shouted out to the vendor, "How much for that one?"  
  
The vendor replied, "How much are you willing to pay?"  
  
Proximo just laughed, "Not much with how much I'm going to have to work with her. I'll give you 100."  
  
"Sold," the vendor smiled pushing the girl over to her new owner. She gritted her teeth and kicked and screamed to get free.  
  
"I am no ones slave girl!" she shouted. Telling by the way she looked and the sound of her voice she was around 18 maybe 20 years old. "I will not be downgraded so."  
  
When Proximo was brought his new slave he looked her over, "Seems to be a good fighter." He noted to her arms, no fat at all, just mussels. He asked the girl, "Why are you dressed in armor?"  
  
"I was training with my brother, swords, maces, you know, training." She said.  
  
Proximo handed the vendor his gold and told the girl, "If you trained in the art of fighting your worth more then just 100. I'll get good profits off of you."  
  
Walking to Proximo's home proved to be hard on some of the slaves but a few held their own. The Spaniard and the girl most of all. On their way their The Spaniard stared at her. It was quite unusual for a girl to fight at all.  
  
"Amocin is the name." She snorted. "Becoming a slave isn't my idea of a good time so lets not start the chit chat." There was something odd about her, something just not right. She sighed and shook her head, "I'm nobody special, just a farm girl who likes to play with swords. I'll never see a real battle, and even if I did my brother will never be able to see just how good I have become at the art. Those brutes killed him while we were training." Though her voice wasn't saddened a small tear escaped from her eye and slid down her face. The two were very much alike, rebels to slavery. They had everything, and it was all taken from them. Their good name, their freedom, and their family.  
  
Training grounds to specify weather or not the slaves were any good as fighters they went up against one of Proximo's top slaves, he wore a blue shirt with a spot of red paint. Unlike others Amocin wanted that little red dot more then anybody. Being a girl she needed to prove herself. "Next." She stepped up after being handed a wooden sword. She didn't even allow him to make the first strike. She dropped to the ground and kicked the big brute's feet right out from beneath him. As swift as a fox she pinned him down and put the wooden sword to his neck.  
  
"Red," Proximo said. Amocin stood up with pride and went back to the bench with the other slaves. Her red dot on her chest. Then The Spaniard got up and now it was his turn to prove himself. He just dropped his sword. He refused to fight. Why, Amocin didn't know. Not even after the slave hit him a few times with his own sword he still refused to fight back. Thus earning him a yellow dot. This indicated he was a weak fighter. But Amocin saw right through him. Her own brother was very stubborn. If he didn't get his way the whole world paid for it. Amocin first started her training 8 years ago, when her parents died. Her mother had died of a fever when her father was off at war. Her brother was full of rage and picked a fight with everybody he saw. She would often have to come and bail him out. The Spaniard was doing the opposite. Nobody wanted to fight her brother so he gave them a fight; everybody wants The Spaniard to fight but he wont.  
  
It wasn't until the day they were all brought to a stadium that Amocin was truly in heaven. The smell of sweat and blood. The sound of the raging audience. The clinging of the swords was her heaven. Proximo gave his little speech, telling them to kill and make the crowd love them. Amocin cared nothing for the crowd, only for the kill. Too bad they were chaining her up to a yellow. Only reds she cared to associate with. Yellows she just shunned and went about her own business with the reds. If a simple girl could fight then all men should so too.  
  
Standing in line, chained to their opposite colored partners they waited for the arena doors to fling open and to bring on the battle ahead. Amocin was in the fourth row. Last one to see the battle. Then the doors opened and the light blinded them all. Most ran head on. Amocin just watched in awe as she saw were destiny awaited. She noticed some were to frighten to go on, others without a fear. The top slave seemed to be doing well, as was The Spaniard and his colored partner. Amocin raised her sword and ran strait into the arena, her partner close behind cowering behind her. It wasn't long before the battle was over, and somehow out of the 8 who went out only four came back in. Amocin and The Spaniard were of those four. Amocin had still not killed. She mearly fought against the other men, her partners in arms did the dirty deed themselves.  
  
The next day in the training grounds Amocin sat among the reds, enjoying a nice little talk. But today she favored the yellows. When she saw The Spaniard she called out, "Hey you, come here."  
  
"I do have a name," He growled. Amocin just smiled shaking her head. "What do you want?"  
  
"I want to see how id fair against you. You put on quite the show yesterday." She grabbed her wooden sword and tossed The Spaniard one. "I saw my brother yesterday in you, lets see if I wasn't mad."  
  
The Spaniard threw the sword down, "Not interested."  
  
"What's wrong?" She questioned in a taunt. "Afraid of a little girl?"  
  
The Spaniard could feel the eyes of a thousand slaves staring at them. He didn't say a word and just walked away.  
  
A new friend of Amocin's walked up to her. She didn't care too much for names, everybody was either 'hey you', 'red', 'yellow', or 'shit head'. This young lad around 24 years of age with dirty blonde hair asked, "Are you sure it is wise to push his buttons? A guy like that could be the death of you."  
  
Amocin just turned away with a laugh, "I wouldn't get that lucky."  
  
Only one fight and The Spaniard was back to being cheered on by his fellow Gladiators. Amocin too cheared as he stepped into the arena alone against five men. She watched in awe as he sliced through each and every one of them. And the final man got his head cut off. The Spaniard threw his sword at the audience and yelled, "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!" He then spit and walked off, the crowd roaring.  
  
Amocin just stared in total bewilderment; this was without a shadow of a dought the best warrior she had ever seen. If she didn't know any better shed say he was able to best her own brother in combat. The temper was what really caught her eye. The only time she had ever seen a man with that much rage was when her mother and father died. The Spaniard must have suffered a similar fate.  
  
It wasn't until the next day when word got around that the slaves would be fighting in the coliseum that Amocin decided it best to become this warrior's friend. She may need his protection when they got to Rome. She caught him in his cell, talking to his colored friend. "Pardon my intrusion but id like to have a talk with you." She said kindly, very intimidated by The Spaniard. The Spaniard came outside and Amocin started to walk off indicating she wanted no ears to hear what she was about to say. "I've been watching you. You're very good with the sword, but very unwise with the tongue. But I haven't come to you to talk about your troubles." She stopped and stared him in the eyes. "I will need your help when we get to Rome."  
  
The Spaniard laughed, "Why, big bad girl can't take care of herself? Only female fighter among us slaves wants the help of a yellow?"  
  
She gave him a 'don't piss me off' stare and explained herself. "I have never seen real combat until just the other day when we all fought those men. You on the other hand, I can tell you have seen many battles. I don't want to die, not yet."  
  
The Spaniard just gritted his teeth, "I have no time for people like you."  
  
And with that said he turned around and started to walk away. Amocin shouted out to him, "Revenge is one nasty feeling isn't it?" He stopped in his tracks but didn't look back at her. She smiled, "I know that temper. The 'Nothing can hurt me for I've already gone through Hades.' My brother was like that when our mother died and we received word that a Barbarian at the command of Marcus Aurelius had killed our father. He wished revenge against everybody. The man who trained our father, the ruler of Rome, the Barbarians, even our father's comrades in arms. You seek revenge, I see that. But the question is why? What is your purpose for seeking revenge?"  
  
The Spaniard looked over his shoulder, a blank expression on his face. "My family was murdered by somebody I held as a friend."  
  
Amocin just stood there in silence. How do you reply to that? To think that a friend would kill your family is disgraceful. She nodded her head and looked down, holding back tears, "I too want to avenge my family. I'm sorry I brought it up, nobody should have to recall tragic events." She sighed and recited something she once told her brother, "Grief is the razor that slices the soul. Wounds heal with time but a scar is forever."  
  
The Spaniard said one final thing before he left Amocin there to morn her brother more and more, "I will protect you, but that doesn't make us friends."  
  
  
  
1 So should I continue it or what? Review 


	2. First Battle

I bet you guys are thinking that there's gonna be a love plot between Maximus and the new girl . . . . . . . . Well think again. I know how much I hate seeing that crap happen, why would I do it myself? Oh and I know there was a word spelled incorrectly. Damn auto spellchecker. For those of you who have it you know what I mean. Anyways here is more. Oh and one more thing. Somebody found Amocin's attitude a but annoying, ya well she's suppose to annoy you in the beginning, she soon gets a lesion in life. I'm finished with the story, its all a matter of spell check, grammer check, and fight scenes before I put it up  
  
Fun And Game, Part 2  
  
"At least these cells aren't dark and damp with rats." Amocin's friend told her after her bitching that she was stuck in a cell with 20 men. Even worse was The Spaniard wasn't there. She felt well safe around him after his promise but now that he wasn't there she felt venerable.  
  
Amocin looked to the side where The Spaniard stood in a different cell talking to a boy dressed in regal cloths. "Well well well," she smirked, "The Spaniard is acting quite unlike himself. Talkative, and. . . . . He just smiled."  
  
When they got all their weapons beneath the coliseum Amocin was quite touchy. The right sword, she searched for it. A sword of little weight and great strength but a small broad sword was all she could find. Again she was in the back row, but this time her sights were not set on the door. The Spaniard was in an odd mood. The look in his eyes was that of a man ready to kill something that caused him great pain. He looked like a born killed, bent on destruction. She took a few steps away from him. What ever were his troubles she did not wish to interfere.  
  
They all walked up into the arena, and it was unlike anything they had ever seen. The shear size was astonishing. The millions of people watching and cheering, knowing death had been brought for them to watch. Amocin wasn't amused, she was frightened beyond belief. It was as if she knew she was going to die, or at least piss her pants like she saw one man do right before her first battle as a Gladiator. They all stood together and spoke in Union to the Emperor of Rome. "WE WHO ARE ABOUT TO DIE SOLUTE YOU!" Then the guy with the red rag on his head spoke, telling the people about the Battle that was about to be recreated. Amocin smirked, trying to forget the upcoming bloodshed. She said to her friend, "Look, there's a rat on his head." Her friend laughed. Then the announcer announced. "This day we reach back to hallowed antiquity to bring you... THE FALL OF MIGHTY CARTHAGE! On the barren armies of the barbarian Hannibal! Ferocious mercenaries and warriors of all brute nations bent on merciless conquest! Your Emperor is pleased to give you... THE BARBARIAN HORDE!  
  
The crowd screamed with excitement. And that's when The Spaniard finally took charge. "What ever comes out of those gates well have a better chance of survival if we stay together." He looked back at Amocin, "You stay behind me until I order otherwise." She nodded her head, shaking more and more every second.  
  
"Spaniard, I….." She couldn't even talk.  
  
"Just do as I say and you will live." He told her. Again she nodded her head.  
  
The announcer went on, "But on that illustrious day the Gods sent against them Rome's greatest warriors...! The very life-image of nobility and glorious valor... who would on this day, and on these same arid Numidian deserts, decide THE FATE OF THE EMPIRE... Your Emperor is pleased to give you... THE LEGIONNAIRES OF SCIPIO AFRICANUS!! It was then that the doors opened and chariots came flooding out. Each one had an archer dressed in golden armor. They cycled the group a few times before shooting their arrows at them.  
  
The Spaniard ordered, "Stand together." All except for a few did obey; most were killed right then and there. Inside a cycle of shields did Amocin feel half safe. Standing behind the warrior made her a quarter safe. Still she felt that 25% of 'I'm going to die.' She held up her shield to her chest and her sword out front and watched as orders were given and followed.  
  
The chariots raced by trying to hit the shields out of place. Amocin had taken to the ground as to be safe. She heard the sound of a man yell in pain and felt The Spaniard leave her side. But she didn't move. Then the sound of a chariot break stride and the cycle of shields were broken.  
  
The Spaniard took lead. Nobody seemed to question his tactics or commands. Sternly he ordered everybody to their posts and they took it. One by one the chariots went down. Everybody took part in killing the warriors in them. The Spaniard cutting a horse free then mounts the big white Beast. "Hey, what am I suppose to do?" Amocin asked as he rode off.  
  
She just turned around and to her surprise there was an archer that hadn't been killed. She took Amocin's sword and rammed it into Amocin's side. The Spaniard ran by just to slice off the archer's head with his sword. "Put your back to the wall Girl!" He ordered. Amocin nodded and backed up into the wall. The cut wasn't even bleeding, that was a good sign.  
  
The Spaniard rode up to a chariot and killed the driver. As the horses lost speed gladiators jumped into the chariot to slaughter the archer. One chariot left. The Spaniard is on his horse across from the final chariot.  
  
Amocin looked around at the carnage around here. Dead bodies filled the arena. She knew that soon it would be her turn to be stared at as a corpse. The chariot is now running after the Spaniard who is leading them into a trap. His horse jumps over an already befallen chariot and soon the chariot behind it has to jump too. The horses make it over but the wheels don't. All the gladiators rush in for the kill and then it is over. The Spaniard on his horse with a spear in hand aimed at the Emperor. Then he throws it down and joins his men dismounting the horse. He stared over at Amocin who was still very much alive. "Are you injured?" She shakes her head but it is far worse then she realizes. It's bleeding now.  
  
Soon they find themselves surrounded by knights. A general stands before them and orders, "Drop your  
  
Amocin and the others dropped their weapons only when the Spaniard ordered with his hands to drop them. The Emperor came in and the crowd roared with cheers. Amocin wasn't the least bit concerned. She had touched something wet when she had put her hands to rest on her side. When she looked down her hands were covered in blood. Her blood. She dropped to the floor; nobody seemed to notice sense all the slaves bowed before the Emperor. She took deep heavy breaths. Words becoming drowned out. Sight being blurred. The last thing she heard before she went out was the Spaniard talking to the Emperor. "My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Felix Legions. Father to a murdered son, Husband to a murdered wife, and I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next" Amocin blacked out right after that.  
  
Later she woke up in her cell, Maximus sitting beside her. She jumped up and looked at her wounds, they had been tended to with great care. "Maximus is your name?" She asked.  
  
Maximus nodded his head, "Yes."  
  
"And the Emperor is the friend who betrayed you?" Again he nodded yes. She sighed shaking her head. "And I thought my life was rough. You have the Emperor himself wishing your demise."  
  
Maximus' color friend entered the open cell. Maximus introduced them, "Amocin this is Juba. Juba this is Amocin." They nodded in reply. "Amocin I'm going to slay Commodus. If in any way I need your help you must promise that you will do what ever it is I ask of you."  
  
Amocin nodded, "It shall be done. My life is worthless. I may die any day as a slave. Might as well die doing something worth meaning." She shook her head, "I didn't do too well back there, don't know what I can do. I passed out at the sight of my own blood."  
  
Maximus and Juba laughed, "You'll get used to it."  
  
Amocin rubbed the back of her head and sighed, "Not so sure about that one. I couldn't kill a man who was trying to kill me. I failed, I should be dead right now."  
  
Maximus pointed to her wound, "Its not all that bad for a first battle. Others would be dead." Amocin agreed with a nod. Maximus stood and took his leave with his friend. He looked back and said, "Watch yourself next time. I can't be there to protect you all the time." 


End file.
